


The Power

by Ladyhawk_lhflu



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:18:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhawk_lhflu/pseuds/Ladyhawk_lhflu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a few things that the One Ring has no power over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Power

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2002.

'Don't you lose him, Samwise Gamgee'

I didn't know how hard that was going to be when we started out from  
Hobbiton. I couldn't have. How was I to know we'd end up chased by dark  
horsemen, fighting Orcs, nearly falling off bridges. . .and losing the  
wisest of us.

I can't ever be what Gandalf was to Mr. Frodo, but I will try to do as  
he asks. I don't need the promise to the wise old wizard to guide me,  
but it is something to hold onto. Something to tell Frodo so I don't  
have to tell him why I really stay tied to him like a saddle to a pony.

So I watch him as he sleeps at night. When Gimli's standing guard at  
our perimeter and Legolas is out staring at the stars, I stare at the  
one star that is my whole world while pretending to dream.

His face is so gentle and beautiful, he could be an elf. Just like  
Arwen, the elf that rescued him from a wraith existence. My Frodo's  
skin glows from the inside, as if his soul can fight off the evil of  
the ring he wears, just by existing.

But sometimes the Ring is too much for him. Like tonight. Just as Gimli  
walks past our resting place, I see Frodo startle and tangle himself in  
the cloak draped over him.

His face is filled with fear as he sits up, panting. I guess that he  
was probably dreaming of the horsemen. I know they haunt my sleep, and  
my waking hours too.

Whatever bothers my master, it probably has something to do with  
Gandalf. I see tears streak down his face, reflected by the firelight.  
His pain calls to me so badly I almost jump up and hug his too-skinny  
body to me. But I hold myself back because I'm afraid--afraid that I  
won't be able to do anything.

I shift restlessly in my sorrow. I look through slitted eyelids and see  
Frodo gaze toward me. At first, his eyes are filled with a bittersweet  
pain, as if he knows what is bothering me. But then it happens.

All of a sudden, my master's body stiffens as if hit by an arrow. His  
beautiful form sways as his eyes roll back in his head. I hear a moan  
leave his lips, which causes me to start to shake. I know what happens  
next. But before it can, I abandon all pretense of sleeping and leap  
toward him.

I won't lose my master to the ring! I can't! "No, Mr. Frodo, no." I  
grab the hand holding the ring and pull it away from his other hand.  
"Please, Mr. Frodo."

He gasps as he comes back to himself. His eyes are clear but frightened  
as they gaze into mine. "Sam."

Before I can reply, his arms are wrapped around me and his head rests  
on my chest. Sobs wrack his frame. "Oh, Sam. What am I going to do?"

I pat his head with my callused hand, trying to reassure him. "I don't  
know, Mr. Frodo. But I'll be here to help, whatever it takes."

His curls tickle my chin as his sorrow quiets. "It's so hard, Sam. I  
know I shouldn't, but it feels so good to put it on."

"Think about other good things, Mr. Frodo. It can't be as good as  
dancing at Bilbo's party or running through the Shire fields on a  
summer day, or. . ." My mind thinks of the thing the ring most  
definitely can't be better than. But I can't say it. I can't hurt him  
by shoving my feelings onto him.

But he sees right through me. The Gaffer would have laughed at how  
easily my heart is seen by my master. Frodo grabs my chin and brings my  
face right next to his. His eyes suddenly shine with a light like none  
I've ever seen.

"Or what, Sam?"

The light draws me. Before I can stop myself, my lips cover his. My  
body molds itself to his elvish form.

His lips open to the touch of my tongue. I delve deeply, learning every  
inch of my sweet master's mouth. Swooning with love and desire, I pull  
back to catch my breath, to gaze into the face of my beloved.

As I do so, I am greeted by the most amazing sight.

My master's form is again tight, as if shot by an arrow. Again, his  
eyes roll inward, as if the sight before him is too intense. But as the  
moan leaves his lips, he reaches not for the ring. 

He reaches for me!

Frodo's arms wrap around me, drawing me back to him. His melodic voice  
whispers in my ear. "More, Sam. Please."

Of course I oblige. My lips fall to devour his as my clumsy hands begin  
to grope for his perfect skin. But his clothes are too much for me in  
my haste. A button pops off his waistcoat from my rough handling.

His happy laugh though, it almost makes me glad I'm clumsy. "Let me  
help you, Samwise. I do need to put these back on in the morning."

So I sit back and watch as Frodo removes each garment. He smiles as his  
eyes catch mine from under the hem of the mithril coat. "Do I not get  
to feel your skin as well, Master Gamgee?"

"Oh." I break out of the trance caused by watching my true desire being  
revealed to me. I close my eyes so I can unbutton my shirt without  
losing my place.

Gentle hands help ease my trousers down when I fumble with them. I feel  
his breath on that most private of places as I step out of them. "Sam,  
you're. . ."

I open my eyes to see the naked form of my beloved on his knees before  
me, admiration in his eyes. No, this is not what I want. As tempting as  
this is, the vision of his taut, straining body appeals to me even  
more.

So I kneel down and urge him to the soft grass below us. "Let me, Mr.  
Frodo. Let me help you."

He looks more appetizing than the finest feast as he stretches out  
before my eyes. I devour him with my gaze before my hands and body  
reach for his skin.

And they too devour him. My hands map every inch of him as he squirms  
and moans underneath my body. I watch as the power of desire takes hold  
of him once again.

This time he doesn't fight it. As I wrap my hand around his cock, he  
bucks up, inviting a rhythm. My hand moves as he silently requests. And  
I watch, watch as he shows how much power I can give to him.

His reaction to my touch makes the ring's pleasure look like a rabbit  
in the shadow of a tree in the great forest of Rhovanion. I smile and  
shake in my pleasure as he shouts and spills his seed over my fingers.

Gentle arms wrap around me as I fall to his chest. I feel him nuzzle my  
hair as I rest sleepily against him.

I sigh as his tones wash over me. "This is what I'll remember. The ring  
has no power over this, my Sam."


	2. Strength

It burns, it burns my soul. This pleasure, this pain. I want more, I   
must have more.

"FRODO!" My eyes snap open to see Aragorn above me, shaking my   
shoulder. His other hand is around my wrist, as if holding it back from   
something.

"St-Strider?" I can't shake the pleading in my voice. Tell me I wasn't   
doing it again. Tell me I wasn't trying to put that cursed thing on my   
finger. I can only do so much against the Ring's seduction.

But I am to get no reprieve. "You were trying to put on the Ring."

"It must have called to me in my dreams. Thank you." I turn my head as   
tears of frustration leak down my cheeks.

The firelight is damning. Aragorn does not move away. Instead he grabs   
my chin and turns my wet face toward his. "You must keep your strength   
up, little one. You cannot do that with a troubled heart."

I gaze into his shadowed visage, then look next to us at the amber   
locks that shadow the face dearest to me. I want to wake Sam. I want to   
ask him to distract me again from the voice in my head that is trying   
to damn me. I still can remember vividly how he did that four nights   
ago. I never felt as safe in the Shire as I did under his touch and in   
his arms.

But as I reach for his shoulder, doubts assail me. He didn't ask me to   
touch him that night. He didn't even say anything about how he feels   
about me. What if he did it out of loyalty, and not love? Maybe I'm not   
good enough for him, and he is only doing it for the good of Middle   
Earth.

I pull back my hand, determined to not force him into anything. I love   
him too much to use his loyalty against him.

So I turn back to Aragorn, whose eyes shine as if holding the secret to   
saving us all. Without thinking, I let my head fall to his chest. The   
man's strong arms wrap around me. "How can I help, Frodo? How can I   
help you bear your burden?"

I sigh tiredly and wrap my small hand around his long fingers. "I need   
warmth, reassurance. I know this is too much to ask of you, as we are   
all weary. . ."

The Ranger's free hand caresses my cheek. "No, little one. Without you,   
we will all fall. I would gladly die of the cold if it meant you   
received my body's warmth." His eyes question me. "But what of Sam? Did   
I not hear you both a few nights ago?"

I gaze again at my beloved's back, then resolutely turn away. "His   
loyalty drove him to it. I don't want to trouble him again."

"It most often takes more than loyalty to motivate actions such as   
his." But as his eyes meet mine, I shake my head, determined to let Sam   
sleep. "All right, little one. If you will not ask him, I will give you   
what you need. Come with me." His hand pulls me to my feet and we walk   
to an old oak on the outskirts of our camp.

Aragorn rests his back against the large tree and motions me to him. I   
sigh as I climb into his lap, finally finding enough heat for my   
chilled bones. 

As I snuggle into him, Aragorn reaches under my tunic and mithril to   
span my chest with his hand. Agile fingers softly caress my sensitive   
nipples. I lean into his touch, trying to get more.

His mouth covers mine gently, pulling at my lips. I moan as my body   
begins to tingle all over.

But suddenly he stops, and rests a warm hand on my back. I look up at   
his face to find him gazing toward the campfire.

"Wipe your tears, Samwise Gamgee, and come here." Aragorn's voice holds   
no anger, just a calm, soothing tone.

I gasp and turn toward the firelight to see amber curls shaking from   
side to side. "Sam?"

My dear friend is shaking as he steps near. "I'm, I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo.   
Don't mind old Samwise. I knew you wouldn't feel like I do. You need   
better than me. I won't stop you if you want Strider."

Looking at the pain in Sam's eyes, Aragorn's words about him come back   
to me. "How do you feel about me, Sam?"

"I've, I've loved you since we were wee hobbits. I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo.   
I didn't want to. . ." Sam turns to walk back to the fire.

I gather my courage as Aragorn nudges me gently to my feet. "Didn't   
want to what, Sam? Hurt me? What you did for me four nights ago didn't   
hurt me at all. It has kept me strong. But you asked for nothing that   
night or since. I thought I wasn't good enough to please you. I didn't   
think you'd want my love."

With a sob, Sam hurls himself at my feet. "I'm the one not good enough,   
Mr. Frodo. You bear the Ring, you keep going when I know it hurts you   
so. I just wanted to make it easier for you, give you something good to   
think about when the ring pulls at you."

I pull him up and into my arms. "You did, my Sam. But its voice gets   
louder still. It made me doubt what I always knew. That you love me.   
I'm sorry for doubting you, and for hiding what I feel. I love you,   
Sam."

Sam continues sobbing against my shoulder, but the tone has changed. I   
hear relief from pain in his tears, and I smile as I hold him close.

Then I remember Strider. I look behind me to see him spreading his   
cloak on the ground. He feels my gaze and meets it. "This will give you   
both privacy, away from the others."

Although my Sam is a comfortable burden, I realize that he is one I   
cannot bear alone, not this night. We are both in need of more comfort   
than we can give, as our journey has been harsher than anything we have   
ever known before. And I so want to give my Sam all the comfort he   
needs.

So I ask. "Will you stay with us, Aragorn? Will you share your warmth   
and strength with us? I would have Sam heal his spirit before he tears   
it apart trying to comfort me. My love for him shines brightly, but   
somewhat coldly, because I am as weary in soul as he is."

As Aragorn nods his acceptance, I see tears glisten in his eyes. "This   
is a great gift you give me, Frodo. I will do my best to heal you both.   
If Sam accepts as well?"

Sam tightens his arms around me and nods into my shoulder. Seeing Sam's   
response, Aragorn gently maneuvers us to lie together on the spread   
cloak.

I watch as Aragorn undresses my beloved carefully. He then takes my   
hand and whispers it slowly over Sam's chest and lovely rounded belly.   
Both Sam and I sigh at the contact. It is so good that I continue   
tracing paths over Sam's chest as Aragorn's hands move to discard my   
clothing.

When we are both naked, Sam reaches for me. His hands tremble as he   
clutches my shoulders. I feel larger hands over his as they show him   
how to ease the tension in my back, guiding him and caressing both of   
us as Sam's hands becomes more confident.

In Sam's hands, I feel love. His touch reminds me of all the times we   
spent together in the Shire and makes me hope for the future. I return   
that love with every touch I give him.

Aragorn's touch, however, is like a soft summer breeze, warm, soothing.   
It mends the wounds we inflicted on each other in our ignorance and   
fills us with the strength we both so desperately need. It is his touch   
that urges my lips to Sam's, to feed on the sweetness there. It is his   
touch that folds our bodies into each other, molding us together into   
one being.

As as our cocks meet between us, it is Aragorn's hands that ease us   
into the rhythm we fumble to find.

Soon, I am grasping Sam to me desperately, trying to get closer, trying   
to imprint his form on my skin as the pleasure overwhelms me.

I gasp as the feeling crests and I feel twin spurts of warmth on my   
belly. Sam's murmured "Frodo" could not be more musical to me if it was   
sung by elves in Rivendell.

As we settle sleepily together, strong in love for each other, I hear   
Aragorn whisper above us.

"Thank you both. By allowing me to see your love, you have given me   
more strength than I could ever give to you. Stay true to each other,   
for if you do, I can never doubt we will defeat the evil before us.   
Sauron is no match for what I've just seen."

In reply, I hold my Sam just a little tighter.


End file.
